Getaway
by Silindro
Summary: When Logan wants to get away for their anniversary, what does his loving wife Rogue have to say? How can he convince her to go?


Standard disclaimers apply.  
  
a/n: Written for the WRFA Annibirthary challege, but it might as well go here for your reading pleasure. Enjoy.  
  
~~--~~*~~--~~ Getaway ~~--~*~~--~~  
  
"Three."  
  
Logan looked up sharply at Rogue, wondering what it was she was bitching about now. It seemed that she had a lot to bitch about. Bitch bitch here and bitch bitch there. Sounded almost like that farm song that kids sang when they were young. But hard as it was to imagine, he couldn't come up with a picture of Rogue clucking around a barnyard.  
  
"Four five six," he said, turning his eyes and attention back to the newspaper. Somewhere on the page he had seen a column about anger management.  
  
"Ya've left the goddamned toilet seat up three times in the past two days!"  
  
"Why waste time telling me things I already know?" Aha! Page five. He began looking for something with which to circle the article.  
  
Aside from the rustling of the newspaper, Logan realized that it had gotten deadly silent in the room. Rogue had stopped making noise. Maybe it had something to do with the red color her face was turning. Or maybe with the way she was clenching her fists.  
  
"You- Mah- How- ARGH!"  
  
Spinning around to the other direction, she walked to the closet and began yanking things off of the shelves, obviously in search of something. Logan watched her over the top of his newspaper, hoping that the bottom half hid his grin. She was cute when she was angry.  
  
"Where is it?" Muttering to herself as she made a mess of their closet space, she delved further into the unknown, ultimately pulling out a large brown duffel bag. Unzipping it, she threw it on the floor and began yanking Logan's shirts from their hangers, dropping them inside. It seemed that he was being evicted.  
  
"What're ya doin'?" Interest peeked his voice as he stood, walking over to his wife.  
  
"Packing," she stated angrily. "You're leavin'."  
  
"Oh," he said with a chuckle. Reaching over to the drawers in the bottom half of the closet, he began sifting through the clothes, pulling out what belonged to her. He tried not to laugh out loud at the look on Rogue's face as she stood still, watching him.  
  
"What the hell do ya think you're doin'?" Rogue asked.  
  
"Packing," he said, his voice full of amusement. "You're leavin'."  
  
"Just where the hell do ya think Ah'm goin'?"  
  
Reaching down and zipping up the duffel, he threw it onto his shoulder and grabbed her hand. Pulling the gloved fingers to his mouth, he kissed them lightly, trying his best to melt her heart. He always had a way with the toughest women.  
  
"You're goin' with me."  
  
"And where are we goin'?"  
  
"The coast," he replied stiffly.  
  
"What're we gonna do when we get there?"  
  
"I rented us a boat," he said, tugging her out the door.  
  
"What kind of boat?"  
  
"It's black, full of holes, and hell-bound."  
  
"Logan-"  
  
"Happy third anniversary, Baby."  
  
"Logan, seriously, what are you doing?"  
  
Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he looked both ways to make sure no one else was there to interrupt them. It wouldn't do to have little eyes and ears listening and watching what they shouldn't be. Arguments where the Wolverine was involved were never clean.  
  
"We're just takin' a little excursion," he explained, tucking a bothersome bit of hair behind her ear.  
  
"But Ah've been so terrible to you," she said.  
  
"I ain't judging," he shrugged. "After all, you gotta be one hell of a woman to put up with my shit. People like you are too few and too far in between."  
  
Sniffing back in the tears that threatened to fall, Rogue wrapped her arms around her husband, pulling him close against her body. She had been real terrible to him, that much was true. She couldn't help the way her moods shifted and changed when it was that time of the month. Thankfully, he never took her seriously enough.  
  
"Ah love you," she murmured into his chest.  
  
"I know, Baby."  
  
"That's all you got ta say ta me? Argh! Sometimes, Logan, Ah swear ta God, Ah just wanna throw your butt out on the sidewalk. Maybe they'd trample all over ya. It'd be good ta see your ego get crushed and-"  
  
Rolling his eyes, he tuned her sudden ramblings out and shifted the weight of the bag on his shoulder. That duffel was getting real heavy. Knowing that she would never walk until she was done talking, he reached down and lifted her up, throwing her over his shoulder.  
  
With Rogue kicking and screaming, Logan made for the car.  
  
~~--~~*~~--~~  
  
a/n: clicky clicky the purple button down thar. You knoooow you wanna. 


End file.
